Saying Goodbye is Easy
by Sarahbob
Summary: After four months of silence, Aragorn receives a letter from his best friend containing bad news. Very bad news. Will Aragorn be able to save the young Prince of Mirkwood and pull him back from the darkness?
1. Chapter 1

**Saying Goodbye is Easy**

_prologue_

Aragorn sat down quietly on one of the soft benches outside of the Healing Rooms of Imladris, where he spent most of his time nowadays learning and practicing his healing skills. He was a born fighter, a leader, meant to be the King of Gondor one day. But his true passion lay in helping those in need. To make sure that light would overpower the darkness. To help ease pain and sorrow. He was a fighter indeed, but he preferred to be a fighter of illness and injury. Though no one could deny that he didn't like to hunt down an orc or two. But he was still young and no matter how often his Adar told him; no matter how often Gandalf tried to remind him, he did not see himself as a King any time soon.

The young Man let out a heavy sigh and stared down at the paper in his hand. The past months had been good. Peaceful. He had felt happy and at ease and he had learned a lot from Lord Elrond. But those feelings had disappeared almost as soon as he read the first few lines of the letter that was brought to him earlier that day. And the more he read, the more his heart ached. He needed to go. He needed to leave his home; his family in order to seek his best friend. No, not his best friend. His brother, his soulmate. Of whom he hadn't heard anything for months - which was odd to say the least. Until now.

Aragorn's eyes roamed across the piece of paper over and over again. His breathing became more labored and his hands trembled. He didn't want to believe what was witten. He couldn't. Because if he did, then that meant that his brother in anything but blood was close to leaving this world. And he wanted to say goodbye.

_My dear Friend,_

_It has been a long time since I have written to you. For that I must apologize and I hope you can forgive me. But I wanted to spare you bad news and pain for as long as I could._

_It troubles me greatly to write down these words, but I fear I can no longer wait. I got injured in battle while defending my Father's Realm a while ago and I am afraid my outlooks are not that good. I will not go into detail for I do not think that this is the right way to do so. Nor do I want to trouble you any further than this letter may already have. Until there was any certainty about my condition, I asked my father not to contact you and for once he has done my bidding for which I am grateful, though I do not think you share that gratitude. Please know that I have had my reasons to wait sending this letter. _

_My strength is leaving me fast these days and I am afraid that even writing a small letter tires me greatly. I ask you to come visit me, for I do not wish to part this world without seeing my brother one last time. I am sorry for doing this to you, please forgive me, my friend. I know this all must confuse you, but I assure you I can explain._

_Please come and see me, Estel. I miss you and I need you with me._

_Your brother, Legolas_

Aragorn stared at the paper and turned it over in his hands. It took him fifteen minutes to let the message sink in. And as soon as it did, he sprang up and ran towards his Father's rooms. He had to leave as soon as possible. But not to say goodbye. He refused to do so. It was not Legolas' time. It could not be. For their fates were intertwined and if it was Aragorn's destiny to become the King of Gondor, then it was Legolas' destiny to be there with him. To stand beside him. He would not let him fall.

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Tbc.

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So, this is my first Lord of the Rings fanfic and I have no idea if you like it or not. If you do, please let me know and I will continue. Forgive me any grammar mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. Thank you!

(Ps. My Les Miserables stories are temporarily on hiatus. I need new inspiration which I lack at the moment. If you have idea's, feel free to contact me)


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for your support on the prologue. I have decided to continue this and I hope you'll like it. Feel free to share your thoughts and ideas :)_

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With his father's blessing, Aragorn left Imladris the very same day. If there weren't any obstacles and if everything would go as planned, he'd be in Mirkwood within five days. His heart was heavy with concern for his friend, but even though he worried more each day he came closer to the Woodland Realm, his annoyance with the young Elven prince grew. Why would he only send word to him after everything seemed lost? Why didn't he call for him sooner? Why hadn't he contacted him in over four months? Were they not as good as friends as Aragorn thought? Did he not mean as much to Legolas as Legolas did to him? Or was it just his stubbornness that kept him from seeking help. Aragorn did not understand and he longed for answers. Answers he prayed to find as soon as he arrived in Thranduil's Kingdom.

In the end it took him six days until he got to the gates of Thranduil's Palace. Being a regular visitor, they let him in immediately. Everywhere around him, Aragorn heard whispering and each Elf he passed by gave him an apologetic look. As if they knew he was about to lose the one he held so dear. It was clear to him that they knew more about Legolas' situation than Aragorn did and it frustrated him. He was exhausted, his clothes were dirty and he could really do with a bath and something to eat, but all that would have to wait, for there was one thing he needed to do first. He had to see his friend. Aragorn made his way to the Prince's rooms where he was greeted by Brethiel, the most skilled healer in Mirkwood and good friend of Thranduil and Legolas.

"Brethiel," Aragorn said with a small smile as he placed both his hands on the Elf's shoulders. "I got Legolas' message. Is he in there? Is he alright? What happened? Can I go in? I need to see him… He asked me to see him." Now that he was so close, question after question tumbled from the Ranger's mouth and his concern only grew when the older Elf gave him a sad smile; eyes shining with regret and sorrow.

"He is waiting for you," Brethiel said quietly. "He has asked me not to say too much; he wants to inform you of his condition himself. All I will say now is that I could not be more happy to see you here. He needs you. He hardly speaks to anyone these days."

Aragorn frowned. If anything, Legolas used to be someone who loved talking to anyone about anything. The simplest things could amaze him and he enjoyed speaking of the beauty he saw around him or the adventures he would like to go on. More often than not, King Thranduil had complained to Aragorn about his son walking around with his head in the clouds instead of focusing on his duties and responsibilities as the Prince and future King of Mirkwood. Aragorn took a deep breath, nodded his thanks to Brethiel and opened the door. He'd never be prepared for the sight that met him.

* * *

The room was dark except for the small flames that were dancing merrily in the fireplace and the few candles that surrounded the room. Aragorn's eyes immediately focused on the bed in the far corner and most importantly on the figure occupying the bed. Though he had seen his friend wounded plenty of times, he had never seen Legolas in a state like this. The young prince was very pale and lay buried under a pile of blankets. His hair, which usually shined brilliantly was now dull and had lost its gloss. His eyes were closed; a sign of extreme exhaustion, injury or weakness, for Elves usually slept with their eyes open. But what scared Aragorn the most was how thin Legolas had gotten since he last saw him and the fact that he hadn't even noticed him coming in the room, which worried Aragorn greatly for alertness was one of Legolas' talents.

Though many years his senior and fatal in battle, the blonde prince now looked very young and awfully vulnerable. It hurt Aragorn's heart to see him like that and all alarmbells went off at the same time leaving him to suddenly feel very protective of his friend. He slowly closed the distance between him and his friend and sat down in the chair next to the bed. Legolas still did not show any sign of realizing there was someone else there in the room with him. Aragorn swallowed thickly, fearing his friend's fate more than ever and gently placed on hand on the side of Legolas' face.

"Mellon-nin," he muttered quietly, hoping that he wouldn't scare his friend by suddenly being right in his vision. "My friend, please, can you wake up for me?"

It took some coaxing, but soon Legolas' eyes fluttered open and he glanced up at Aragorn for a few seconds as if he didn't fully realize who was there with him. Then a small smile spread across his face and he let out a contented sigh. "Estel, you're here…" His voice, usually so melodious and bright, now was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, only just loud enough for Aragorn to hear.

Despite the painful twisting of his heart, Aragorn managed a smile and he carefully carded his fingers through the blonde locks. "I'm here," he said softly, "I'm here and I'm not leaving."

Legolas looked at his friend, still with that serene smile on his face, and tried to push himself up to sit a little straighter. He couldn't suppress a pained moan as he did so, but Aragorn was there in an instant, rearranging the pillows and helping him to get more comfortable. "Easy, my friend, let me help you." Legolas breathed a silent thank you and let himself fall back against the soft pillows.

"Can I get you anything?" Aragorn asked quietly, "Maybe something to drink?" He wasn't used to seeing Legolas like this. Of course he had seen him hurt plenty of times, the adventures they went on often left one or both of them injured, but never had he seen his friend this weak and fragile. It scared him.

Legolas smiled again and shook his head. He watched Aragorn for a few moments and reached out to grasp his friend's hand and squeezed it gently. "Do not be afraid, Estel, it takes me a little longer to fully awaken nowadays. I am not fading yet."

Aragorn looked away from Legolas' intense gaze and swallowed hard. He didn't know what to say to that and he cursed the sudden tears in his eyes.

Another squeeze of his hand had the young man look back up and finally he saw something familiar in Legolas' eyes: a glint of mischief. "You look terrible," the Elf stated, grinning as he said so.

This caused Aragorn to let out an indignant bark of laughter, a strange combination with the few tears that spilled over at the same time. He quickly wiped them away an grinned back at Legolas. "Well, isn't that nice," he said playfully, "I've gone through rain and wind, I've crawled through mud and dirt to get here as soon as I possibly could and as always, you judge my appearance instead of praising my perseverance. Well, Prince of Mirkwood, you certainly have looked better yourself." Though it was said jokingly, both Aragorn and Legolas noticed the sad undertone in the Ranger's voice.

But still, Legolas' smile grew warmer and he let his eyes travel across his covered body. "I am afraid that is indeed true. Though even in this state I look better than you."

They were both silent for a minute. Then Legolas spoke again. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Aragorn, it means a lot to me. I know it mustn't have been easy. But tell me, how is Lord Elrond faring? And your brothers? I have not seen them for such a long time. I want to hear about the time you've spent learning from them since the last time I saw you. It feels like we haven't spoken in years!"

Aragorn blinked at his best friend and shook his head. He knew what Legolas was doing. This was familiar territory. Whenever Legolas was injured or whenever something was wrong, the blond prince always tried to divert attention from himself by asking questions about Aragorn's wellbeing or family. "Four months actually," he said quietly, "We haven't spoken in four months. Not after I sent you my last letter." He looked at Legolas and noticed how his friend was purposefully looking anywhere but at him. "Legolas, you cannot sent me a letter like the one you did, asking me to come here as soon as possible and then pretend nothing is wrong. I've been climbing walls for days now; sick with worry and Brethiel did not tell me anything when I arrived. I need you to talk to me. You promised me you would give me reasons. You promised you would explain…"

"Can't it wait a bit?" Legolas interrupted quietly, "Can you not tell me how you've been doing first?"

"No, I cannot," Aragorn said briskly and he let out an incredulous huff when Legolas scowled at him. "Legolas, you can't send me a letter telling me you want to see me one last time before you leave this world and then ask me to wait a bit for an explanation! Try to understand that!"

Legolas flinched at the words, but kept his eyes trained on Aragorn. He stayed silent for another minute, looking at his friend as if he saw something there that he had never seen before. Then he pressed his lips together in a thin line and took a deep breath through his nose. "Fine," he mumbled tiredly – which wasn't like him at all, because Elves were not supposed to mumble. "Fine, if you want to get straight down to it, then we'll do just that."

Aragorn heart was beating so loud he feared it would jump right out of his chest. He was still holding Legolas' hand in his own and squeezed it in response.

"I am going to die, Estel. I have fallen ill by an unknown poison and there is nothing that can be done."

* * *

TBC.

_So there's the second chapter. Please let me know what you think? Thanks!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi guys! A longer chapter this time. Thank you for reviewing, following and favoriting this story and I hope you'll like what I've come up with so far :). I don't know how to work the Elven language, so I've just googled some. Enjoy! _

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Aragorn blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. The way Legolas announced that he was poisoned and would die soon sent shivers down his spine. In a tone as if he couldn't care less. Perfectly at ease as if it was just something that could be told casually. No big deal. The young man stared at his friend and couldn't help opening and closing his mouth a few times like a fish. It must have looked stupid, though he was sure that Legolas didn't really know what to say either, because he suddenly let out a small, nervous little laugh and started fidgeting with the blankets covering his body. But before the young Prince could continue his story, Aragorn spoke up.

The Ranger frowned and gave his friend an incredulous look. "Do you think this is funny?" He asked indignantly, "Does my shock at the way you announce your death amuse you somehow?" Of course he knew Legolas didn't mean it like that and he was sure that his best friend didn't find that fact funny at all, but hearing the news straight from Legolas' lips felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He was panicked, confused, angry and frightened all at the same time and he didn't know on which emotion he should act. Anger seemed the easiest way. "How do you think it feels when you don't hear a word for four months from the one person you share everything with and then to have him casually mention that he'll die soon? As if it doesn't matter? Don't you think it matters to me, Legolas? Don't you think you matter to me?"

He wasn't even aware that he had raised his voice until he saw Legolas shy away from him; eyes filled with sadness and eyebrows pulled together in pained confusion. Aragorn let out a deep sigh and sagged further in his chair. He didn't want to be angry and he certainly did not want to be the one to put that look on his friend's face. "Goheno nin, mellon-nin," he whispered apologetically as he took Legolas' hand and squeezed it tightly, "I did not mean to upset you. I am not angry... I just...don't understand... How can I, when I'm given such awful news so suddenly. Please talk to me, explain. I will listen, you have my word."

Legolas swallowed thickly, but offered Aragorn a small smile and shook his head. "There is nothing to forgive, Estel. I understand..." He took a deep breath and placed a protective arm around his waiste, wincing when the pain in his body suddenly spiked. Aragorn immediately reached for the blankets - the healer in him wanting to know what was wrong and where his friend was hurt - but Legolas batted his hands away and gave Aragorn a pleading look. "Not yet," he whispered softly, "Not yet, Estel... I want to tell you first...I want to tell you now, or I fear I'll never will."

Aragorn hesitated for a moment, but then withdrew his arms from the blankets and instead grasped Legolas' slender hand in his own rough ones. "Kwentra lle i-narn, Legolas," he said, "tell your story."

Legolas nodded and looked away from his friend. It hurt him to see the pained look in Aragorn's eyes. "It actually goes back four months ago," he started quietly, voice trembling ever so slightly. He ignored Aragorn's surprised expression and continued even more softly. His voice now barely more than a whisper. "I was planning to go to Rivendell to visit you, mellon-nin... You just heard about your destiny and we did not part the best of ways. I wanted to...to surprise you, I guess, so I informed Ada and prepared for the journey."

Legolas swallowed and hesitated. Aragorn noticed, but didn't say anything. He feared that if he interrupted his friend now, he wouldn't be able to continue. So instead, he just squeezed his hand again as a silent form of comfort.

"I never made it out of the forest... I was getting close to the edge and sunken deep into thought, because I knew you were troubled and I did not want to burden you further, I kept arguing with myself if visiting you would be the best thing to do... But I figured that I was still your best friend, despite our arguments and I wanted to be there for you should you want me to..."

Aragorn felt his heart swell and smiled warmly when Legolas glanced up at him for a moment. Again, he couldn't help but notice how very young the Elf looked.

"Anyway, I was not paying much attention to my surroundings and when I finally sensed evil approaching, it was already too late. They caught me of guard; I didn't even have time to shoot a first arrow. They were with many and before I could do anything, a few had held me down, while another smashed something against my head. I must've passed out, because the next thing I remember is waking up in a dark room, tied up. They..."

"Who is 'they'?" Aragorn couldn't help but interrupt. He had to know what kind of creatures Legolas was talking about. Legolas looked up at him in confusion, obviously startled out of his concentration. Aragorn swallowed and asked again. "Who is 'they', Legolas? What are the creatures you're speaking of? Orcs?"

His friend blinked a few times and shook his head. "They were Men from the East, over the River and a bit down South. I did not know at first, but they told me and I knew Father had had his troubles with them in the past."

Aragorn nodded and cocked his head a little to let Legolas know he was sorry for interrupting and that he should continue his story.

Legolas took a shuddering breath and cast his eyes down again. "They held me captive for two months. T-They...they...wanted information. They wanted me to talk. To tell them about Thranduil's Palace and the secrets of Mirkwood. I did not want to tell them, I refused to. And so they tried to get me to talk another way...They...They used different methods..."

Legolas felt Aragorn's hand around his tighten and he clenched his jaw. He couldn't speak of it; it was too much. He did not want to relive it. Aragorn seemed to sense Legolas' discomfort and placed one of his hands at the nape of Legolas' neck. He understood what happened. It was all too clear, even without the details that the young Prince clearly could not give. He felt like someone had punched him in the stomach with an iron fist. "They tortured you," Aragorn finished quietly.

Legolas closed his eyes and nodded slowly. He was on the verge of crying as dark memories attacked his already fragile mind, but he refused to let the tears fall. After a few moments he blew out a trembling breath and cleared his throat. "It did not work. I did not speak. It frustrated them, of course, and for a moment I thought that they would kill me, but they didn't. I did not see them for weeks. They left me in that same dark room; they sometimes shoved in some bad food and water, but they did not come in. I figured they hoped that I would slowly go mad. It's not good for any Elf to be stuck in the dark, but it is near painful for a Wood Elf. I do not know how much time had passed before the door finally fully opened, but when it did, in came a man who checked all my previous injuries. When he was satisfied that I had healed, he took out a dagger, dipped it into a dark liquid and scratched me with it."

Legolas silently rolled up the sleeve of his left arm and showed Aragorn a small black mark just above his elbow. Aragorn frowned and carefully traced his fingers over the line, expecting the skin to feel different there, but it didn't. It was as smooth as the rest of Legolas' arm.

"After that, they told me that they would find another way to get revenge on my father and that they would attack once his defences were down. Before I could ask them anything, they knocked me out again and when I woke up I found myself in the same place as were they first captured me. I was confused and afraid to go home, because I feared that they might did something to me so that they could follow me to the palace. I waited three days, too exhausted to move anyway, before a Patrol scout found me and escorted me back home."

"Everyone must've been worried sick," Aragorn said quietly, but Legolas shook his head.

"No one knew what had happened. They assumed I had spend two months in Rivendell with you and your brothers. My Father figured I only just returned from there."

"You did tell him the truth, did you?" Aragorn asked anxiously, growing more nervous when Legolas remained quiet, "Mellon-nin, tell me you did inform your Father of what happened to you!"

Legolas unconsciously bit the inside of his cheek and looked back up. "I told him eight days ago... Two daya before I sent you that letter..."

Aragorn gave him an incredulous look and shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Legolas continued.

"Try to understand, Estel. I did not even know what exactly happened to me and I definitely did not know why. All I knew where these terrible memories of darkness, fear and pain. I didn't want to talk about it, I wanted to forget. To banish it out my mind. It was easy to play along with my Father's assumptions and so I kept my mouth shut. But he noticed there was something wrong with me. He kept asking if I was okay and at one point he even asked if you and I had been in a fight. I guess I behaved differently... I must have. I no longer felt like myself, I was lost and I could not find the light. It felt as if I was still stuck in that room of darkness."

When Legolas looked up again, he noticed the tears in Aragorn's eyes that were on the verge of falling. His young friend shook his head and brought Legolas' hand to his mouth, kissing the fingers tenderly. "Why didn't you ask for help, my dear friend?" He spoke quietly. "Why didn't you reach out? I would have come! I would have dropped everything to be with you; to help you! You should have let me know..."

One silver tear made its way down Legolas' cheek and he shook his head ever so slightly. "I couldn't... I tried, Estel... I sat at that table and I tried to write you maybe a thousand times, but I couldn't... I did not want to do that to you. I still don't... You have so many things troubling your mind already, I did not want to burden you further."

"Burden me?" Aragorn said, "you could never be a burden to me. Not ever! How can you say that, Legolas? How can you even think that?"

Legolas didn't answer, but closed his eyes. Both he and Aragorn were silent for a few minutes. One finding the strength to continue his story, the other fighting not to say things that would upset his friend further. After a while, Legolas looked back up at Aragorn and started to talk again.

"Two and a half weeks ago I was out on patrol again. I had been trying to avoid it as much as I could before that, but I couldn't keep coming up with excuses... I don't exactly know how it happened but we were trapped by a group of Orcs. We could easily fight them, and we did, but I wasn't focused and before I knew it, I was fighting three of them at the same time. That didn't really end well..." He traced his hand over his stomach and winced. "I got injured badly and they took me to the Healing Rooms... Not long after that, I found out what the dark liquid was that those men infected me with two months ago..."

Aragorn frowned and watched how his friend pushed away the blankets and pulled up his shirt. His entire midsection was covered in bandages with numerous red spots on it. The young man leaned forward and softly moved his hand around the spots, apologizing when Legolas hissed. "This happened nearly three weeks ago? How come it's bleeding? Have you ripped the stitches somehow? The bandages need to be changed, let me do that..." Aragorn was rambling but he couldn't help it. Elves were supposed to heal fast; so much faster than any other race. It shouldn't be possible that a wound was still bleeding after three weeks unless a healer had been careless or if there wasn't a healer at all. Neither was the case, because Brethiel - though not as skilled as Lord Elrond - had been tending the wounds and was perfectly capable of fixing battle injuries.

Legolas sighed and pushed Aragorn's hands away. "I didn't rupture any stitches, Estel... I told you, I've been poisoned. Those men infected me with some kind of filth that doesn't allow wounds to heal. Brethiel has closed these injuries four times already... They open again after a few days, causing me more pain than I've ever experienced before. When the wounds did not heal, I had no choice but to tell him and my father what happened two months ago... Ada made me send you a letter immediately, but I did not want to do so until I was sure that nothing could be done for me. Brethiel tried every medicin in his power, but nothing helped. Ada wanted to contact Elrond, but I made him swear not to do so... I have not seen him again after that, he must be upset with me. But I am so very tired, Estel. Tired of the pain, tired of the nightmares. I don't want to go on feeling like this; I've experienced something that can't be healed; I'm living in darkness and I have been for two months now. I don't want to continue like this. I can't... And there is nothing that anyone can do for me."

Legolas sounded so depressed right then. So dejected and completely drained of any will to live. It sent daggers straight through Aragorn's already burdened heart. His best friend, usually so full of life, so happy, hopeful and optimistic, now seemed but a mere shell of what he once was. But Aragorn refused to be dragged down with Legolas' troubled mind. He refused to let his friend give up just like that. They had not even let his father take a look at him. There was still a chance for his friend to heal. He knew there was. There had to be. Aragorn took hold of both Legolas' shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes.

"You are wrong, mellon-nin," he said in a firm, brisk voice. "You are wrong. And I refuse to let you give up. I refuse to let you go that easily. You cannot despair. There is always hope! There is hope! And hope always conquers darkness, no matter how black it might all seem."

TBC.

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_Soo... Will Aragorn be able to get through to his friend? And is he right? Is there hope? Can something be done? We'll see. Hope you liked this chapter and if you have any comments, please let me know, I want to know if I should continue this or not... Please review? :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you again for the support I've gotten on this story. It is harder than I previously thought, because I'm trying to stay true to the characters, but it's my first Lord of the Rings story and I'm not sure if I have a grasp on them yet. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Enjoy!_

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Legolas was touched by Aragorn's determination to see him healed, but his friend missed the point. Even if Lord Elrond miraculously found a way to rid him of the poison, Legolas just lacked the strength to keep fighting. He was tired of the pain, yes, but he was even more tired of the way his life was now. He had lost every bit of his old self. Never in his darkest dreams had he ever thought that it was possible for him to break like this; to fall so far. But it happened. And now he couldn't find pleasure, hope or peace in anything. All he saw was darkness and despair. And though his mind wanted to believe his best friend, his heart could no longer feel it. He had made his peace with his fate and he didn't want to go on like this anymore.

"I admire you, Aragorn, son of Arathorn," Legolas said quietly and he kept his eyes locked on those of his friend. "But you do not understand how I feel. They have wracked me, Estel, they broke me in such a way that I don't believe I can ever heal again… I would have never thought it possible, and yet here I am not only accepting my fate, but welcoming it. Elves don't fall into despair or darkness easily, but when they do, it is near impossible to get them out of it. It eats at them, takes a hold of them and captures them in such a way that it is difficult to ever be freed from it. I have told you once the story of my Father's brother, have I not? I would rather travel to the Halls of Mandos and feel whole again than fight an endless battle against darkness that will never fade. It is hard for me to say, but a part of me is glad that the poison does not allow my wounds to heal. It makes things more easy…"

Aragorn had been shaking his head all the while Legolas spoke. He had grown up with Elves himself and he knew how much harder disaster could strike them. He knew that despair and depression, although very rare, were the only illnesses that Elves could fall victim to - apart from poisoning or infections - and when they did, it was hard to heal them, because they often lost all will to be healed. Just like Legolas told him right now. Aragorn knew of the endless battle Thranduil's brother had fought after he had been captured and been tortured himself. The poor Elf had wanted to fight because his family could not let go; refused to let go. And it had only made things worse, adding guilt to his already depressed state of mind. It had not ended well. But even though Aragorn could understand where Legolas was coming from, he could understand the family and kin of the young Elf's uncle more. How could he ever give up on his friend like that? How could he let him go without first trying everything in his and in his father's power to help him? It may have been selfish, but he could not care. He refused to give up hope.

"I cannot listen to you speaking such words, Legolas. I cannot accept that you won't even try! How can you not try? I know the story of your uncle, but I also know that I am not like his wife and children. When the time is there and there is no hope left, I will let you go, I promise you. It will be the most difficult thing I will ever have to do, but I can do it. But it is not this day nor is it this week or month. My dear friend, this horror happened two months ago and for two months you've dealt with it in silence and on your own, without any help from friend or family. I know you may think all seems hopeless, but Legolas, you have not even tried. Not really. You and I have been through so much together and I _know_ we can beat this as well. Together. With me by your side just like you have been on my side for so many years."

Legolas was fighting hard to keep his face in check, but he could not hold back all the different emotions that shone through his eyes. The despair, the confusion, the anger, annoyance and the grief. But Aragorn could've sworn he saw the tiniest sparkles of doubt and hope there too. And now that he had seen that, he was even more determined to hold on.

"Your fate is not to travel to the Halls of Mandos after this, no matter how dark it all may seem. Your fate is not to leave this world right now. It cannot be! Legolas, it cannot be! Because I just heard about my fate and if I am destined to become the King of Gondor one day, then you are destined to be there with me. To guide me along that far. There is no way that I would achieve such a thing without you by my side. Nor would I want to achieve it without you. Don't you understand? Your fate is entwined with mine. And our story does not end here…"

Legolas was no longer looking at Aragorn, but now stared somewhere in the distance. Not looking at anything in particular, but still captured by Aragorn's words and he despised the fact that he had allowed his friend to bring hope back in his heart. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. Not when it was locked in on all sides by black nothingness.

"Legolas," Aragorn continued in a softer and gentler voice, "You are the young Prince of Mirkwood, destined to be King one day. You are honest, kind-hearted, passionate and pure. You are the best archer Mirkwood has ever known, already a warrior hero among your own. You bring people peace and hope, you bring them happiness and cheer. You are such an important person in so many people's lives...Surely, you don't really believe such a fate you described can be yours…" He sighed and grasped both of Legolas' hands again and squeezed them until the Elf's deep blue eyes focused on him once more. "You are my best friend. You have helped me battle through so many things. You've taught me what it truly means to hope. You've showed me how deep a friendship can go. You've been with me through my worst days. Let me return the favor. Let me help you. Allow me to pull you away from your darkest thoughts and let me help you to find the light again….Or at least let me try. Let me try until my own hope fades…"

Aragorn didn't even notice when a lone tear trickled down his cheek, but it broke Legolas' heart to know that he was the cause of Aragorn's own despair that was so evident in his voice. He swallowed hard and blinked rapidly to clear his own eyes. The look his young friend gave him hurt his heart and before he realized it, he was nodding his head in agreement. A suppressed sob escaped from his mouth when he _did_ realize, but it wasn't a sob of regret or sorrow, but one of relief. The relief after feeling hope and light ignite somewhere in his core.

When Aragorn realized Legolas was accepting his help, was willing to try one last time with his friend by his side, he moved forwards and pulled the Elven prince in an embrace, careful of his injuries of course. He held on tight as silent sobs – that still did not have Legolas' full permission to come out – wracked the fragile body. Aragorn didn't know how long he was sitting there with his arms draped across Legolas' back, all he knew was that his friend was finally allowing the emotions to come out. There had been only one other time Legolas had shown such vulnerability in Aragorn's presence in all the time that he had known him and that had been when his oldest brother was killed in battle. And so he held his friend tight and whispered words of comfort as long as Legolas needed it, until his friend pulled away. Before Aragorn released his hold on the Elf, he spoke directly in his ear: "There is _always _hope, mellon-nin. Hold on to that and don't forget it. There is always hope."

Legolas gave his friend a watery smile and nodded ever so slightly. There was still doubt in his eyes, as was there pain and despair, but there was deep trust also and the will to at least give it one last try. And that was more than Aragorn could've hoped for. He carefully helped Legolas settle back against the pillows and brushed his long blonde hair back behind his ear. "We need to get Elrond here so that he can take a look at you," Aragorn said kindly, "Your father has ways to communicate with him faster than a letter will. Do you mind if I go see the King? I will be back soon."

Legolas let out a small sigh and nodded again. He hadn't seen his father in a while now and he still didn't really know if the older Elf was upset with him or if he was trying to come to terms with his son's fate. Brethiel had told him that the King asked for updates on Legolas' condition at least three times a day, but Legolas just wished his father would come and visit him. Now Aragorn wanted to speak with him; wanted him to contact Elrond, something Thranduil had wanted to do days ago but was told not to by his son. The young prince wondered if his father would take it badly that Aragorn achieved what he could not. His friend and his father had never really seen eye to eye, Thranduil was always suspicious where Aragorn was concerned and his human friend had often voiced his displeasure when it came to Thranduil's behavior towards his youngest son. Legolas was certain that his friend did not take kindly to the news that his father hadn't been in to see him for almost eight days.

"No, I do not mind," Legolas said quietly. His pale cheeks colored a soft pink when he added in a whisper: "But do come back quickly… Now that you're here I don't look forward to being alone again."

Aragorn smiled. "I'll ask Brethiel to come in and keep you company. Those bandages need changing anyway and maybe it is time for him to close the wounds again. I know you said it brought you pain, but we've agreed on letting my father take a look at you, so the wounds have to be closed at least once before that… Can't have you bleed out on us, now can we?"

Legolas tried to return the smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "They are not open yet… I don't want Brethiel to close them again until it is absolutely necessary. I fear that the more often they are treated, the sooner they reopen. As if the poison feeds on the healing powers… "

Aragorn looked concerned, but he didn't say any more on it. He just nodded and kissed his friend lightly on the top of his head. "I'll be back soon, try to get some rest, my friend. You look exhausted." When their eyes met again, Aragorn realized that getting rest wasn't something that came easily to Legolas nowadays. He wondered how bad the nightmares were of which his friend had spoken. With a last encouraging, yet understanding smile, Aragorn stood and walked towards the door, closing it softly behind him.

He spotted Brethiel immediately. The older Elf had not moved since Aragorn came in earlier. He was sitting in a chair in the hallway and looked up hopefully when the young human came walking towards him. Brethiel's heart had been full of joy when the man had arrived earlier that day and ever since Aragorn had entered Legolas' room, he had been praying to whoever might listen that the Prince's best friend could get closer to the now so distanced younger Elf. Brethiel had known that if there was one person who could pull Legolas away from the edge, than it would be Aragorn. He had never in his life seen a friendship such as theirs and the fact that they were from different races made it even more remarkable. The healer stood and greeted Aragorn appropriately. He did not say anything, but the questions in his eyes were all too clear to understand and Aragorn placed a firm hand on Brethiel's shoulder.

"My lord Brethiel, would you mind keeping Legolas company for a short while? I do believe he could do with some clean bandages. I will return in a short while, but I have to speak to King Thranduil. I admit that I don't like the idea of leaving my friend alone in his room." Aragorn did not have to speak the words for Brethiel to understand that it was really Legolas who did not like to be alone, though the words Aragorn spoke were no lie either.

"Of course, young one," Brethiel said kindly, "It would be my pleasure to keep the Prince company until you return. May I ask why you wish to speak the King so urgently? He likes to keep to himself these days, if you know what I mean, and I am not certain if he would like to be disturbed…"

Aragorn knew what Brethiel was actually trying to ask him. It was all too clear what the older Elf was hoping for and Aragorn couldn't help but smile reassuringly when he told the healer what his business with Thranduil was. "I have spoken to Legolas and we have decided to give his healing another chance. You are an excellent healer, my Lord, but Lord Elrond excels in his healing skills, especially when it comes to poisoned wounds. I would rather not see my friend in pain for much longer, therefore I will ask the King if he can contact my father. That way there will be no time wasted on sending letters."

Before Aragorn could continue, he was pulled into a tight embrace. "Hannon le, Estel," Brethiel whispered in a small voice. "Thank you. You do your name justice."

Aragorn returned the hug and squeezed his eyes shut. He suddenly felt overwhelmed and the seriousness of the situation hit him full force. "I hope so," he whispered quietly, "I cannot lose him, Brethiel…"

The older Elf tightened his grip in comfort, but did not say anything. They stayed like that for a short while until Aragorn pulled away. The young man quickly wiped the wetness out of his eyes and nodded at Brethiel. "I have to see the King," he said quietly.

"And I the Prince," Brethiel replied with a smile. He returned the nod and turned around to enter Legolas' room. Before he closed the door behind him, he looked back only to see Aragorn hurrying down the hallway in search for his best friend's father.

TBC.

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_Another chapter done! I hope you liked it. Do you have any thoughts or comments? Let me know! The review button is just below ;)_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi guys! Thank you again for your support. It is much appreciated. This chapter took a little longer, but I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!_

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Aragorn made no stops on his way to Thranduil's chambers, even though he figured that he might have cleaned up a little before visiting the King. Legolas' father wasn't too fond of him anyway and showing up looking weary and haggard from traveling was probably not going to set the King in a good mood. But Aragorn didn't want to waste precious time making himself presentable to Thranduil. It wouldn't be the first time the King saw him dirty and unshaven and it wouldn't be the last. Aragorn smiled as he recalled a memory not too long ago when Aragorn had dragged a muddy and unconscious Legolas back to Mirkwood after hunting a group of Orcs. For once in his life, the young Ranger had been cleaner and more presentable than the Prince. And he would never let Legolas forget it.

The palace was a large place, but luckily Thranduil's rooms weren't far from those of Legolas, so Aragorn got there within only a few minutes. When he arrived at the main room, he hesitated. The door was closed and Aragorn was suddenly not so sure what he was going to say. Thranduil hadn't been in to see Legolas for days. Did he even know Aragorn had arrived? How was he going to react when he found out that Aragorn had gotten through to his son when he himself could not? Apart from that, Aragorn wasn't sure if he could keep his own anger at bay. He wasn't in the least bit happy that the King had not visited Legolas after the young Prince had told him what had happened. How could he not? At the time when Legolas needed his family most. Needed his father most. How could Thranduil be so careless?

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm his mind. Then he brought his hand to the door and knocked three times. For a moment Aragorn thought that Thranduil hadn't heard him, but just before he was about to knock again, a low, monotonous voice told him to come in. Aragorn self-consciously tried to wipe some of the worst dirt off his face and clothes and opened the door. The sight that met him was shocking to say the least. King Thranduil looked almost as bad as Legolas did. He was sitting in a large chair, messily dressed and his long blonde hair was tangled and looked dull. When the King looked up, Aragorn immediately noticed the drawn and sad look in his eyes and the dark circles under them. Maybe he wasn't so careless as the young man had previously thought.

"Your highness," Aragorn said quietly, with a small bow and a nod of his head, "I have come to make my presence at your court known and I would like to speak with you, if it is not too much trouble."

The King looked surprised to see Aragorn and he stared at the human for a few moments before nodding and inviting him in to take a seat by an absentminded wave of his hand. "Be welcome, son of Elrond, I must say I am glad to see you here in these dark times." His voice was soft and he offered Aragorn a small smile.

"I assume that my son has finally informed you about his condition? If so, then I wonder why you are here? You should be with him, not with me." His eyes glided up and down Aragorn's body, noticing the dirt, and he frowned disapprovingly.

Aragorn jaw tightened and he stood a little straighter. "Forgive my rudeness, my Lord Thranduil, but I cannot help but wonders the same for you. Legolas tells me you have not been in to see him for eight days! How could you not? He's your son and you're his father. He needs you." Aragorn wasn't planning on showing his displeasure immediately, but he couldn't help it. The anger was bubbling right beneath the surface and it wanted to come out. "Do you not care what happened to him? Don't you wish to spend what might be your son's final days with him? Do you not want to do everything in your power to convince him not to give up?"

"Be silent, human," Thranduil said, raising his voice. His eyes flashed dangerously and he within a few seconds he was only inches away from Aragorn. The young man carefully took a small step back, but he would not cast his eyes down.

"You have no idea of what you speak. You do not know what is in my mind or in my heart. Don't you dare tell me that I do not care. You have no idea what torture I have gone through every day since he got back. Knowing something was wrong, but never knowing what exactly. Seeing him draw in further and further within himself. Not speaking to me, not eating, not sleeping. Seeing him give up, just like that, without even allowing me to help. He is lost, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He is lost and it is my fault. I should have known! He should have told me! I should have known something like this had happened again! I should have seen the signs after the first time. And now he has gone through all of it on his own… I cannot sit there next to him, watch his pain and fear. I cannot, for it stops my heart if I do. I have tried everything in my power to convince him not to give up; I have tried to make contact with Lord Elrond; and I have tried to pull him back from that darkness they put him into. But you do not understand. Our relationship is not like yours. He made me swear – as a dying wish – to let him go. In our Realm such a wish is binding; I cannot disobey without his permission. I can't break my promise. And I cannot go see him… I cannot… I can't take it; I can't see him fade like this. What do you want from me? I have failed him as a father. He's better off without me there, for if I see him, I cannot hold that promise. I can't."

Thranduil was no longer shouting, nor was he angry. Aragorn swallowed hard. His mind was screaming at him. _Again_? What did the King mean by something like this happening _again_? It couldn't be. Had Legolas endured something similar before? When he was younger? Aragorn wanted to ask, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, because all that stood before him now was a grieving father who was torn inside by guilt, sorrow and grief. Tears were freely running down his fair cheeks and as soon as the outburst was over, the King slumped down back in his chair and started to cry.

Aragorn was stunned. He stood there in shock as he watched the tall and proud King of Mirkwood crumble down. After a few moments he carefully walked closer and put a comforting hand on Thranduil's shoulder.

"I apologize for my words, my King. I did not think before I spoke…You might have been forced to make such a promise, but I have not. And I have seen Legolas, I have spoken to him and I know how he's faring. I know he's in the dark and I know he's lost the light, but I am not his father and I am no Elf. And I refuse to make such a promise. I will not give up on him and I will not let him give up on himself."

Thranduil looked up at Aragorn with a small frown, but he did not speak, so Aragorn continued.

"He is willing to try, my Lord," Aragorn spoke quietly, locking his eyes with those of Thranduil, forcing the King to understand. "I do not know what it is that I said, but I like to believe it is because of the close friendship your son and I share. He is willing to try a last time. He's letting me help him, even though he has no real faith that I will be able to help, but he is letting me for my sake. Because I cannot give up like this, I cannot let go without doing everything in my power to help him. I would fall in despair myself."

Thranduil shook his head and carefully dried the wetness on his cheeks. " What do you speak of, Estel? What do you mean?"

Aragorn offered the broken King a small smile. "He has allowed me to seek help from my Father. And I do not know Lord Elrond has knowledge about this illness, but I do know that if somebody does, than it is him. And I will not give up on Legolas before I am absolutely sure there is nothing that can be done. He has been there for me in my most darkest days when I could not see hope or light. Without him my life would not have been as it is now. And I owe it to him to return the favor, whether he believes I can do it or not. For me, I do not have another choice."

The King still looked at Aragorn with shock. He didn't dare to believe what this man was telling him. Could it be true? Could Aragorn have achieved with his son what he, his father, could not? Was there really still hope that his son would come out of this?

"My Lord," Aragorn said again, in the same gentle, yet confident voice, "There is still hope. I understand the severity of the promise you have had to make. I have heard about them. But the promise no longer stands, for Legolas has accepted the help and he has allowed me to contact Elrond. You have not failed him as a father, nor will you do so and I wish to take my words back. But I cannot do this by myself. I am his friend; his brother even, in everything but blood. But he needs his father also. He needs you there; he needs your support and he needs your faith. And I need you to be able to do so, no matter what the outcome of this whole thing will be. I need your help, because I cannot guide him back by myself. Don't hide away, King Thranduil, you will regret it for the rest of your life."

"If you speak truth, Aragorn, and my son has truly decided not to give up yet, you will forever have my gratitude and friendship," Thranduil whispered hoarsely after a few moments of silence. "What would you have me do?"

"Use your Elven ways to contact my Father," Aragorn spoke softly. "If he travels immediately he can be here in five, or maybe even four, days. I would send a messenger myself, but I know you have ways to communicate faster. I've seen my Father use it once when Legolas was severely injured a few years ago."

Thranduil shook his head. "As much as I want to do that, I need my son's consent to do so. He may have told you he was willing to let Elrond see him, but he has not told me and I am the one who made the promise, not you."

"Then go see him! Right now. He wants you to come, Thranduil!" Aragorn said firmly, forgetting his manners for a second and calling the King by his first name. "Legolas misses you, he may be too proud to admit it, but I see it in his eyes. He needs you to be there with him. It hurts him to know you keep informing about his condition, but refuse to go into the room yourself. Walk with me now and visit your son. Brethiel should be done cleaning the bandages… Talk to him so that he can tell you himself that he's willing to let Elrond come see him."

Thranduil blinked at the young human in front of him. He had never really liked him before – he didn't trust Men, he hadn't trusted Men ever since they took his son from him when he was only a young Elfling, centuries ago… But this man was different. Legolas had befriended him immediately after meeting him. And though Thranduil trusted Legolas' judgement, he had never really approved of the bond that developed between the two. But there was something about Elrond's foster son. Something that Legolas had seen at once, but that Thranduil was only starting to see now. If this man was really capable of pulling his son through; if he was able to bring him back from his despair and into the light, then Thranduil would be forever in this man's debt. And he would be happy to. For the first time in the ten years that Legolas and Aragorn had known each other, Thranduil felt like he could trust the young man.

The King stood from his chair very slowly and nodded. Without another word, he walked past Aragorn and quickly made his way down the hall to his son's rooms. There he stopped, with his hand on the doorknob, and he hesitated. In a moment of love, hope and relief, he had nearly run to see his son and hear from him that what Aragorn had told him was true. But now that he was there, he was scared. He had not seen Legolas for eight days. He had left his son alone after he had confessed to him what had happened. All because _he_ could not handle it. He had only been thinking of himself. Would Legolas even want to see him? Would he be angry? Thranduil was vaguely aware of his hand trembling fiercely around the knob. He was for a moment again lost is his own mind full of guilt and grief, but now a small ray of hope as well.

Aragorn had followed Thranduil immediately and watched how the proud King stood nervously waiting outside his son's door. The young ranger walked a little closer and looked the older Elf in the eyes as he reached forward, closed his hand around that of Thranduil and turned the knob. He heard the King's breath hitch as the door was pushed open and revealed a very pale and young looking Legolas sitting upright in his bed with Brethiel in a chair on his side, reading quietly to the prince.

At the sound of the door opening, Legolas turned his head and couldn't help but gasp silently at the sight of his father. He stared at the King for a few quiet moments, blinking in surprise. "Ada?" he whispered softly when Thranduil didn't say anything but just stood there watching his son with pain filled eyes.

Hearing Legolas' voice pushed the older Elf over the edge and Thranduil felt himself stumbling towards the bed, collapsing on his knees and grasping Legolas' hands in his own. He was crying. He was sobbing and he couldn't help himself. All the guilt, fear, anger, worry, pain and sadness came tumbling out at once.

Brethiel and Legolas stared at the King in shock and both turned large eyes on Aragorn, who was still standing in the doorway and shrugged helplessly.

For a second, Legolas forgot all about his physical and emotional pain as he watched his Father bread down in front of him. The man who hadn't come to see him now for eight days. It took a moment for him to realize that Thranduil was speaking to him. Asking him something over and over again. "Is it true, ion-nin? Is it true? Will you let us help? Will you release me from my promise? Tell me it is true? Tell me I can help? Please let me help? I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Goheno nin. Forgive me… Is what your friend tells me true?"

Legolas felt a large lump forming in his throat. He gazed at Aragorn again who only looked at him apologetically. Guilt crept in the young prince's heart as he realized what his dying wish had done to his Father. Guilt that in this state of mind was very dangerous to carry. He suddenly felt overwhelmed and he felt tears forming in his eyes as well. And for the second time this day, he felt them spilling over. He quietly leaned towards his Father. "Yes, Ada…," he said with difficulty. Afraid to give his father hope but even more afraid to deny it to him. "It's alright… I'll be alright…"

When Aragorn's eyes met Legolas', the young man realized this might have been a mistake. He saw the guilt there. He prayed to Ilúvatar that they would be able to help; that Legolas would indeed be alright. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and he realized Brethiel was trying to pull him out of the room. Aragorn was about to protest, but the pervasive look the Elf gave him was enough for him to obey.

"Let us give them a moment, Mellon-nin," Brethiel said softly as he closed the door behind him, "Thranduil will take action soon enough… In the meantime, you might want to freshen up and eat something. It will do you no good to weaken yourself, Estel. We have a long road ahead of us and Legolas will need you at your best."

Aragorn hesitated for another moment; wanting nothing more than to be there in the room with his friend as well. But Brethiel was right and so he nodded and let himself be guided away from Legolas' rooms and the guestrooms that he so often occupied. He would clean up. And he would eat. But he wouldn't sleep. He could do that in Legolas' room.

TBC.

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_Hope you liked this chapter. Please let me know and review? Means a lot to me and I'm always curious to hear what you guys think :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_(Hi guys! Took me a while to get this up, but here it is :) A somewhat shorter chapter, but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless. Thanks again for the reviews, follows and favorites! Means the world to me)_

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Aragorn was getting restless. He had followed up on Brethiel's advice. He had taken a bath; cleaned into a new set of clothing and he had grabbed something to eat. It all took him less than an hour to do so, for which he was glad, because he wanted to return to Legolas' room as soon as possible. But Thranduil was still in there with him and Brethiel still didn't want Aragorn to go inside.

_They need their time together. Have patience, he will be out soon and you can go see your friend._

Aragorn frowned. He was more than a little annoyed as he recalled the healer's words. That was all very well and he could understand that Thranduil wanted some time alone with his son after he had made such a promise to Legolas and after not seeing him for eight days. But, damnit, Legolas needed help and Thranduil had to contact Elrond as soon as possible! Aragorn couldn't be happier that his best friend had decided to keep on fighting; to not give up yet, but he was still poisoned. And he still needed an antidote as soon as possible. The King of Mirkwood had been in the room for more than two and a half hours now and Aragorn couldn't help but think that was precious time they could not spare.

For the sixth time within two hours, Aragorn walked up to Brethiel with a questioning look in his eyes. The young ranger let out a frustrated sigh when the healer once again shook his head and offered Aragorn an apologetic smile.

"I'm going in now, Brethiel," Aragorn said resolutely. "I know you think they need time together and I fully support that, but we have to take action now. You said it yourself. Each time you close his wounds, they reopen faster. You said yourself you think the poison is feasting on your healing powers. I need the King to contact my father. The sooner the better. Legolas needs him to. I have to go inside."

Brethiel sighed and was about to shake his head again and refuse Aragorn permission to go inside, but he had to admit that it _was _taking quite long now and they were wasting precious time. He couldn't be happier that Thranduil and Legolas had reunited after their very emotional parting eight days ago, but Aragorn was right. Legolas might be ready to fight again, but he needed medicine to do so. And Lord Elrond might very well be their last chance to get those medicine…_And even if the Elven Lord knew how to help the young Prince, we would still be days of travel away…_

"Alright…," Brethiel said hesitatingly. "You can go in… But be patient with the King. You have no idea what kind of strain this whole promise has put on him. And on Legolas. They need time to get back from it. Their relationship is a difficult one, but they do love each other more than life."

Aragorn nodded. He very well understood. He and Legolas had discussed the bond the young Prince shared with his father many times. Aragorn knew that his best friend could sometimes be a little jealous of how easy things were between Lord Elrond, Aragorn and his brothers. But he also knew that, even though they often had a hard time showing it, both Mirkwood Elves loved each other dearly.

"Hannon-le," Aragorn said quietly to Brethiel with a thankful smile. He nodded once as he moved past the healer and opened the door to Legolas' bedroom. The sight that met him brought an honest smile to his face. Both Prince and King were sound asleep. Thranduil had moved himself on Legolas' bed and had one arm draped loosely across his son's shoulders. Legolas had curled a little inwards and was half resting against his father's chest. The Elven King's cheek was gently pressed against the top of his son's golden hair. Their fingers entwined. Aragorn knew he had just walked in on a very intimate moment between Father and Son and for a second he wondered if maybe he should leave them to it. But then he noticed Legolas' pale skin and his pained features and concern for his best friend took charge again.

He silently walked towards the bed – careful not to wake his friend for he needed as much sleep as he could possible get – and laid a hand on Thranduil's shoulder. The King stirred, but did not wake and Aragorn wondered how long it had been since the Legolas' father allowed himself sleep. He softly shook the King's shoulder, very softly, because he didn't want his movements to jostle Legolas' body.

"My King, please wake," Aragorn whispered cautiously. "It is time to get your son help. Please wake up, my Lord."

Thranduil mumbled something unintelligible as he blinked his eyes open. It took him a moment to focus on Aragorn, but when he did, he frowned confusedly. When he looked down, he saw his son sleeping peacefully in his arms and the sight tore at his heart. How long had it been since he and Legolas had shared such a moment?

"My King," Aragorn whispered again, hoping to drag Thranduil's attention back to him, "It has been nearly three hours… Please, Legolas needs help. You must try and get in touch with my father now." His voice sounded pleading, but pressing. It was important that the King understood and that he took action.

Thranduil eyes widened a little; shocked that he had fallen asleep. He silently cursed himself for it, because this meant that they had just wasted a few hours. On the other hand. He had needed this moment with Legolas. The King carefully removed his arm from beneath Legolas' shoulders and started to sit up. Legolas let out a small moan and his closed eyes fluttered open as soon as he felt himself being moved away from the warm, protective presence of his father's chest. But his body and mind were so tired, he almost immediately fell back asleep, smiling softly when he felt his father place a gentle kiss on the top of his head. Aragorn had seen Legolas injured or exhausted so many times now, that he wasn't even surprised whenever Legolas slept with his eyes closed. Just concerned.

Thranduil stood from the bed and silently walked towards the door, motioning for Aragorn to follow him. The young man did so, even though he really wanted to stay with his friend. Now that he was with him again, it was twice as hard to leave the room.

"You have spoken truth," Thranduil said tiredly, but with the joy of the world in his eyes. "My son has released me of my promise, although I fear his heart is not fully in it yet." The King's smile faltered a little as he recalled the look of guilt in his son's eyes for causing his father so much distress. Thranduil knew the Prince had only consented because he did not want to cause his father and friend more pain and not so much because he wanted to fight himself.

"I will make contact with your Father as soon as possible. You are right. He and I, as well as Lady Galadriel, have special ways to communicate in times of great need… And I think this qualifies as such… Please keep my son company while I'm gone, Estel. I do not want him to be alone anymore. As long as there is light around him, I feel he will hold on…"

Thranduil swallowed thickly and his voice wavered for a moment. Both the King and Aragorn knew that the fact that Legolas was willing to try did not mean that he would be alright. He was still very sick, very weak. And he was still lost in darkness, even though now he seemed to be willing to hold on to a small thread of light. The blond Prince was not out of the woods yet. Far from it.

Aragorn nodded and grasped Thranduil's hand. "Thank you, my Lord. He will be alright. We both have to believe that. And I will not leave his side for even a second if it were up to me. You have my word."

Thranduil smiled and watched the ranger for a second. Then he quickly turned on his heels and strode away, leaving a worried, yet relieved Aragorn behind. As soon as the King was out of sight, Aragorn turned back and quietly opened the door. He walked very silently towards Legolas' bedside and sat down in a chair close to the Prince's head. Legolas was still slightly turned on his side, and it was easy for Aragorn to take hold of his friend's hand. He squeezed it gently. Legolas didn't wake, but when he pressed the young man's hand back weakly in his sleep, Aragorn suddenly felt overwhelmed and his eyes filled with tears. Legolas had to be alright. He _had _to be. There just was no other way.

* * *

Thranduil did not return for a long while and Aragorn assumed that he was held up by royal business. According to Brethiel, the King had forsaken his duties the minute he learned the truth about Legolas' condition. Now that there seemed a little hope in his recovery, Thranduil deemed it necessary to take care of the most pressing matters first and hand other business over to his second in command so that he could focus completely on his son. But that took some time. Brethiel had come in a few hours ago to tell Aragorn that Elrond had received the message and would be on his way immediately, accompanied by both Elladan and Elrohir.

Legolas, in the meantime, slept quite peacefully. He still had a pained look on his face, but he didn't look as pale as when Aragorn first arrived here. Brethiel told him he always looked better after they had treated his wounds, but that it would unfortunately change soon enough. But the fact that Legolas was sleeping so soundly, was something new and Aragorn was certain that it had everything to do with the fact that Thranduil had come back to visit him. And, if he had to be honest, he dared to hope that he had some part in it too. Legolas always felt better – lighter – whenever Aragorn was around and the fact that he had been able to convince Legolas to fight whereas his father couldn't, that must've meant something.

He carefully brushed some of the golden locks away that had somehow fallen into the fair being's face before falling back in his chair. Aragorn had been travelling almost without rest for six days and he was exhausted. He didn't want to rest, but his endurance didn't match that of an Elf by a long shot and his body needed it. It craved sleep. And so, no matter how hard Aragorn fought it, his eyes slowly drifted shut and he was consumed by the welcoming darkness of sleep.

He didn't know how long he had slept, but he woke up with a start when he heard someone cry out his name. Aragorn's eyes immediately sought out the figure on the bed. Legolas was tangled in his blankets and twisted painfully until he curled himself into a tight ball; something that really did not help the wounds that Brethiel had only just closed. He was moaning and breathing rapidly. Cold sweat decorated his forehead and neck. Trapped in a nightmare.

Aragorn leaped forward and immediately untangled the blankets from his best friend's form and tried to turn him on his back so that his injuries were bothered least. He whispered words of comfort directly into Legolas' ear, hoping he could coax him back to awareness. But Legolas was mumbling as well and what he said frightened the young ranger more than anything. His friend was begging…

"No please… Please don't… Stop, I beg you, please stop… No more."

Tears escaped the proud Elf's closed eyelids as he squeezed Aragorn's hand as hard as he could.

"Please… j-just… j-just stop. I can't take no more. Please… Estel? Estel, help! Please, help?"

Aragorn's heart broke. Legolas was begging for him. For his help. And he wasn't there… Was Legolas reliving his time as a captive? Had he been calling out for his friend then as well? The thought made Aragorn feel sick. He tried his best to wake his friend up; to pull him away from this awful nightmare, but Legolas didn't hear him.

"Make them stop… Please, Estel…?"

TBC.

* * *

(And here I'm going to end this chapter. Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Please let me know what you think and review? Keeps me motivated!)


	7. Chapter 7

_(Thank you all again for your support. Hope you like the new chapter!)_

Legolas was trapped. Somewhere deep down, he knew he was dreaming. He knew he was in the middle of a nightmare. But he couldn't get out. They wouldn't let him. He was trapped in his own mind and out of all the prisons or cells that Legolas had come across, the one his own mind created must have been the worst.

He was terrified and he hated himself for it. He loathed the fact that his whole body was trembling in fear and as soon as the begging words tumbled out of his mouth, he felt sick. Sick of his own weakness and his own despair. But he couldn't help himself.

"Please…_Saes…_stop! No more.. please, no more…" His voice was reduced to a mere whisper. He no longer had the energy to shout. After all that he had been through, Legolas could tolerate much pain. More than any Elf or Man could endure. But this wasn't so much about the physical torture. If there was one thing that Legolas could not stand, it was darkness and loneliness. Especially loneliness. And his capturers knew exactly how to make the young Elven Prince feel as if he was the last person left in a dark and hopeless world.

For days they would lock him in a tiny cell; a cell too small for his body, so he would have to crouch down until his legs started to cramp. There was no sound and the deafening silence pressed on Legolas' shoulders like a concrete block. He could only hear his own breathing, the beating of his heart and the blood streaming through his veins. And it drove him mad.

After Legolas had been locked in there for days on end, with no food or water, his capturers would take him out and do terrible things to him. They would beat and cut him; they would lash out on him with their whips; they would even touch him in places that terrified the young Prince. But that wasn't the worst of it. It was in the beginning, but after his mind had been crushed by the blinding darkness, what hurt the most were the lies they told him. The emotional torture. With every time they locked him in his cell, Legolas found it harder and harder not to believe what they told him. That he was a disgrace to his people. That they had abandoned him. That there was nobody who cared for him. That this was no more than he deserved. They would tell him that because of his failure, his father had died. That he would also lose those most precious to him. And each time, Legolas started to hate himself more. He wanted to die.

Even in sleep, he could no longer find rest. The darkness would haunt him and bring him back to that weakened, terrified part of himself.

"Please, stop… Let it be over, isn't that what you want eventually?"

They only laughed at him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, apart from the laughter, Legolas could hear someone calling to him. He knew that voice. He trusted that voice and he wanted nothing more than to let it sooth him. To let it take him away from this torturous place that his mind was trapped in every single night. Estel. His hope.

"Please… Estel, help? Make them stop… Please?"  
A face appeared in front of him. One he knew too well, though he wished he didn't. Distorted and ugly with a smug smile and a dangerous glint in the eyes. Legolas feared this face beyond anything. This was the face that broke him. The face that reduced him to a mere shell of what he once was. He was trembling again. Cold sweat gathered on his brow and trickled down his back. He wanted to scream, to cry, to hide. He no longer wished to fight this face or the person that belonged to it. Because it would only bring pain and misery if he did. He had lost that will to fight long ago and no matter how he tried, he could no longer find it.

The trusted voice sounded louder now, drowning out the laughing faces of those surrounding him. It was pleading him – no begging him, to return to the light. To wake up.

_I'm trying, Estel_. Legolas thought miserably. _I'm trying… Where are you? I cannot find you… Please? Please, help me?_ The Mirkwood prince was vaguely aware of the small moan that escaped his lips as he tried as hard as he could to fight his way back to the light. Aragorn's voice got louder and louder and after a while, Legolas could not even hear the sounds of those who wanted to hurt him. He felt someone shake him firmly by the shoulders; he heard someone demanding him to open his eyes.

And then he did. 

* * *

Aragorn's heart was breaking. He had been trying to wake Legolas up for ten minutes now, but every time he thought he was close to pulling his friend back, Legolas seemed to fall back even deeper into his nightmare. The young ranger was sure that the Elf could hear him. He knew, because every time he called Legolas' voice, the prince turned his head slightly towards him and begged him to help. To find him. To make 'them' stop.

Aragorn was on the point of taking harder measures to wake his friend, when Legolas started to tremble and shift more in his sleep. He was whispering Aragorn's name over and over again and somehow Aragorn knew he was fighting his way back to the light. He gently continued his coaxing words, demanding his friend to open his eyes.

When they finally did, Aragorn's heart skipped a beat at the raw fear and pain that shone through them. He had seen Legolas in a vulnerable state many times, but never like this.

Legolas needed a moment to focus on his surroundings. He stared straight through Aragorn for a second, not really seeing him, but only taking note of the warmth and light the waking world offered. When his eyes finally focused on his best friend, something in Legolas' heart broke and before he knew it, a raw sob tore its way out of his throat. And then another, and another. Legolas let himself be pulled into the protective embrace of his friend and buried his face in the curve of Aragorn's neck. He wasn't really crying, there were no tears. But he was so relieved to see Estel's face at that moment, that he needed this time to collect himself. He needed to hold his friend; to hear him; to touch him; to smell him… Just to make sure that he was really here and no longer trapped in the darkness of his nightmare.

After what must have been only a few minutes, Legolas pulled away and fell back on his pillows. He dragged one arm over his eyes and breathed deeply a few times. He felt immediately ashamed of himself and he dared not to look his friend in the eyes again. Somewhere deep down he knew of course that it was ridiculous, because Aragorn would never feel ashamed of Legolas… But the young Mirkwood Prince had only a little pride left after everything he had been through, and he desperately wanted to hang on to that.

Aragorn, always observing and knowing Legolas better than anyone, maybe even better than his own father, knew exactly what the prince was doing and tried to break the tension.

"Nightmare?" He asked dryly, in a voice that hinted humor, yet concern.

It had the desired effect.

Legolas let out a bright, surprised chuckle and pulled his arm away to look at Aragorn, who was smiling back at him.

"No, not at all…" He said quietly, his voice still a little hoarse, "Why would you think that?"

Aragorn grinned and squeezed Legolas' shoulder reassuringly. Neither of them said anything for a while, not because they didn't know what to say, but because they both felt comfortable enough in each other's silence. Legolas smile faded after a few minutes and he turned to look at his friend. "Is it any use to tell you I'm feeling okay now and I don't need to talk?"

Aragorn snorted. "Not at all… But I will not press you into talking about this right now, mellon-nin. I only wish to tell you that talking about it may help and that I am here for you. Always."

Legolas' hand found Aragorns and he weakly squeezed it, feeling grateful and loved. "Thank you… Not now…" He whispered tiredly. He did not know how long he slept, but he still felt exhausted. The nightmares didn't give him a chance to rest properly.

Aragorn nodded. He wished Legolas would talk to him, but if there was anything he had learned from his friend in the past, then it was not to press him into it. Legolas would come to him in his own time. When he was ready. Of course, Aragorn could coax him into sharing his experiences, but he would never force his friend to tell him. It had the opposite effect of working.

"Very well…," he said quietly, while he carefully lay down next to Legolas on the bed, draping one arm protectively around his friend's shoulders and pulling him close. It had took them a while for Legolas to be comfortable with Aragorn being this close to him, but Aragorn had always known that Legolas longed the attention and he was happy to give it to him. To make him feel safe.

Legolas easily relaxed into Aragorn's touch and leaned back a little, so that his head was resting against his friend's shoulder. They didn't speak for a while and just lay next to each other in silence. Legolas was slowly drawing strength from his best friend and he suddenly regretted not contacting Aragorn sooner.

"My father will be here in a couple of days," Aragorn said quietly after a while. "And I believe he has taken Elladan and Elrohir with him. I apologize in advance for that.."

Legolas smiled and closed his eyes. "Don't. I haven't seen them in a long while. It would be nice to have some pranks in Mirkwood again. Everyone has turned so serious here in the palace…It couldn't hurt to see my friends and family smiling again."

Aragorn frowned sadly. He was sure that, though he had to admit that Elladan and Elrohir had their funny moments, Legolas' friends and family weren't so somber because of the lack of humor in the palace. He kept his mouth shut, however, not wanting to trouble Legolas more than he already was. Besides, he was sure that his best friend knew very well why everyone in the palace had gotten this serious.

Legolas suddenly chuckled. "Do you remember the last time they came to visit? You were already here, but you hadn't send word about your arrival to your family yet, so I guess they were worried. I still remember the look on father's face when he caught them decorating my rooms with pink flowers. They somehow had him convinced that I actually asked them to brighten up my room a little, because the pink colors reminded me of spring and sweets and I presumably loved sweets… Late that night father came to my room with a box full of candy... You know he doesn't like to be made fun of, even though it was actually me who was being pranked."

Aragorn smiled. It was good to hear Legolas laugh, even though he knew his spirit wasn't fully in it. "I remember… And instead of speaking to my brothers about it, your father decided to reprimand me, instead of them, because I should be able to control those two. As if that is even possible…"

"Tell me about you three?" Legolas mumbled soflty. "I know you've told me a lot already, but it is always amusing to hear and I could use some lighthearted stories right now…"

Aragorn pressed a light kiss on the top of Legolas' head and nodded. He knew it was a big deal for his friend to admit that he needed something light to hear. "Aye, I can do that, my friend. You but have to ask. Just close your eyes for me and try to rest…"

Legolas did as he was told. He smiled contently as he listened to Aragorn's voice and the stories he had to share about his childhood with the twins and Lord Elrond. They were carefree and humorous and they allowed Legolas' mind to focus on something else than the pitch black darkness that tried to enfold him so often now. For a second he feared falling asleep and thus having to face the nightmares again, but somehow, with Aragorn so close to him and his friend's voice so nearby, he believed he could keep the darkness at bay. Slowly he drifted off into the world of Estel when he was still a young boy and he dreamed that he had been a part of it.

Aragorn noticed the difference in Legolas' features the minute he fell asleep. He wondered for a second if he should wake his friend, but Valar knew Legolas needed the rest and he seemed to be comfortably resting right now. Aragorn made sure he was in constant contact with his friend. He kept talking to him and every now and then he squeezed his shoulder or rested his chin on the top of Legolas' head. He refused to fall asleep himself. If this was what Legolas needed to get through the night, then this was what Aragorn would do.

TBC.

_(Hope you liked the chapter! Please review!)_


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